The Price of Magic

by Wesley Allison

  The party continued for another two hours, as games were played, including Hot Boiled Beans, The Minister’s Cat, Feather, and The Laughing Game. Finally at 10:00 PM, the young men and women began filing out. Most of those without their own vehicles were given rides by those who had them, though a couple took advantage of the rickshaws that Mrs. Staff had hired for the occasion. Tiber stopped at the door and clasped Iolana’s hand in his.

  “Thank you very much for inviting me.”

  “Of course. Your family are our closest neighbors. You had to be here.”

  “I’d very much like to take you to lunch this next week.” Iolana started to object, but he continued. “But I don’t think I’ll be able. No doubt I’ll be called up to serve as an officer in the militia.”

  “You don’t really think there will be hostilities?”

  “We need to teach these wild lizzies a lesson, and I think we will.”

  Then he skipped down the steps to his steam carriage.

  “That doesssn’t sssound very good,” said Esther from just behind Iolana.

  “No, it doesn’t,” said Iolana. “It’s not our concern though. My mother is the governor. It’s her problem.”

  Esther gave her a knowing look.

  “Don’t dwell on it. Go upstairs with Terra and get ready for bed. I’ll be up in a few minutes. I just want to check on my father.”

  The lizzie nodded and headed for the staircase. Iolana walked back through the parlor, which the servants were already cleaning, down the hallway and into the library. Just as he had said he would be, Radley Staff was there, sitting in a plush chair. His head was propped up on his right hand.

  “Are you feeling any better, Father?” asked Iolana, crossing over to him, but he neither answered nor moved. “Did you fall asleep?”

  She pressed her palm to his face. It was cold.

  “Father?”

  She carefully lifted his left arm and felt for a pulse. None was present.

  “Oh Father, how could you?”

  She carefully sat down in his lap, pressing her face to his shoulder, draping his limp arm over her. Then she wept, as she hadn’t done since she was a very small girl.

  * * * * *

  An examination by two local doctors determined that Sir Radley Staff, Baron of Saxe-Lagerport-Drille, had died of a heart attack, and that his death had occurred at between eight and nine in the evening, shortly after he had left his daughter’s birthday party.

  The funeral was held three days later. There were more than a thousand human attendees. There were even more lizzies who, though they didn’t enter the church, gathered around in respectful silence. Lady Iolana was the last of three speakers, in addition to the priest, and gave a touching tribute to her father. She purposely did not write it ahead of time. Nor did she speak off the cuff. She composed what she was going to say as she sat in the front pew of the church, organizing it in her head, and finalizing it just as Father Galen finished the eulogy.

  Her mother, who had not left her bedroom in three days, was present beside her, her black veil so thick that she was practically unrecognizable. While Iolana was speaking, she left her seat and exited the church, and was not seen again as the cortege carried Sir Radley to the cemetery. Iolana, flanked by Esther and Terra, stood by and watched the casket lowered into the earth. She was the first to take a handful of dirt and toss it in the grave. So many followed her that there was scarcely work for the gravediggers to complete the task. As the nineteen-gun salute followed, Iolana once again looked around for her mother. She was nowhere to be seen.

  When everything was said and done, Iolana turned to walk back to the church, and almost bumped into Tiber Stephenson.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss, Lady Iolana.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and continued on.

  She noticed that he wore his militia uniform, but thought no more about it until she felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Ascan Tice, also in uniform.

  “I’m so, so very sorry, Lana. Your father was a great man.”

  “Why are you wearing that?” She frowned.

  He looked down at himself.

  “Oh, Mayor Luebking is sending out the militia to give the lizzies what for.”

  “And the Colonial Guard?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Iolana turned and marched to the church, Terra and Esther barely keeping up with her. Once there, she climbed into her car and drove home as quickly as she could, which was not at all quick, given the traffic around the church.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Terra.

  “Something bad. Something very bad.”

  Pulling up in front of the house, Iolana jumped out before the car was completely stopped. Terra had to reach down and pull the brake.

  “Tacktotott?” Iolana demanded of the first lizzie she saw. It was Garrah, who simply pointed upward towards her mother’s room. Stomping up the stairs and down the hall, she burst through the door to find the black-draped figure sitting lifelessly in a stiff-backed chair. In two steps, Iolana was in front of her, reaching up and yanking off the veil to reveal her mother’s swollen and tear-streaked face.

  “You’ve got to do something,” she demanded. “Mayor Luebking has ordered out the militia to fight the lizzies.”

  “I don’t care,” said Mrs. Staff slowly, without looking up.

  “Don’t you understand? You have to get down there and stop them! Either that, or send out the Colonial Guard. Otherwise those militiamen will be slaughtered. All they know about lizzies is what they see here in town. They have no idea of what the lizardmen warriors are really capable.”

  “I don’t care,” her mother said again, without looking up.

  Iolana slapped her hard across the face.

  “Start caring! This is your colony! You’ve sacrificed all of us for it!”

  “The colony can go to hell,” said Mrs. Staff, looking up into her daughter’s eyes. “Laird Luebking and all his militiamen can go to hell! Those slimy reptiles can all go to hell!” Her voice rose to a shriek. “And you can go to hell too!”

  Iolana sneered at her mother. “I never expected you to be so weak.” Then she turned on her heel and stomped out.

  Chapter Fifteen: The Crawler

  Tokkenoht sighed and looked at the warriors around her. She could see it in their eyes. They were all thinking the same thing: a female had no business in a scouting party. Of course none of them had said it to Hsrandtuss. The worst thing about it was that Tokkenoht agreed with them. She no more wanted to be wandering around the forest with a hundred warriors than they wanted her with them. Of course she hadn’t said anything to the king either.

  “We are ready, Your Eminence,” said Szerl, the veteran warrior that was her second in command.

  Tokkenoht nodded in agreement, but also in recognition. There was more in the eyes of the warriors than just the unusualness of having a female with them. There was anger at having a female in command. Hsrandtuss was clear though. With Straatin having been killed in the attempted coup, and with Slechtiss out of favor, having lost the king’s trust, Tusskiqu was needed in the city to command the mainline troops. That meant that there was no trusted battle commander to scout the area for any humans trying to sneak into the territory.

  “I need you to do this, Tokkenoht,” he had said. “You and Sirris must be my eyes and ears.”

  There was only one acceptable answer: “Yes, Great King.”

  “We will cross the river and follow the other side,” she told Szerl.

  It had been an entire month since the four human prisoners had escaped and weeks since the rest of the soft-skins had been driven out of Yessonarah’s territory. In recent days though, nearly a dozen humans had been captured sneaking back in. The lure of gold was simply too strong for them to resist.

  The river was called Scizzinik, and was neither very wide nor very deep, except during the rainy season. It marked the official edge of the territory of Yessonarah. Once the party re
ached the bank, a quick determination was made than none of the fifty-foot-long Birmisian crocodiles was present. Neither were there any of the giant salamanders that often inhabited the still pools and shallows. Satisfied, the lizardmen, strong swimmers that they were, quickly crossed the waterway.

  “Four teams, spread out following a ninety degree arc. The rest of us will make for the round hill to the northwest,” said Tokkenoht. “That is where we will rendezvous. We’ll set up camp there tonight.”

  The four groups of ten warriors each set off in a pattern designed to cover all the land on the other side of the river that faced the human lands. Meanwhile the other sixty marched toward the hill. It was about five miles from their crossing space, so they arrived in short order and began setting up a semi-permanent base of operations. They had just cleared a large circle, setting up a crude fence of dead brush, when one of the four search teams returned.

  “Why are you back so soon?” asked the priestess. “Did you see humans?”

  “Yes,” said the warrior in charge, rolling his eyes around, “but not the ones we were looking for.”

  “How many were there? Describe them.”

  “There were at least two hundred. They were painted alike, and they all carried thunder weapons.”

  “A war party?” questioned Tokkenoht. “How were they painted?”

  “Their feathers… or whatever the humans have…”

  “Cloth.” Tokkenoht used the human word. “What about it?”

  “It was a sort of pale green color. Every one of them had the same color on, and they all wore hard hats.”

  “All right. Take five of your men and head for Yessonarah immediately. The Great King will want to know about this.”

  “What will you do, Your Eminence?”

  “We will be watching the humans, to see what they are doing. As soon as we know and the other teams check in, we will follow. Szerl, your opinion?”

  “You are right,” he said grudgingly. “We must wait for the other patrols. In the meantime, have the men bury their rations and anything else we don’t need. That way we can move faster.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Give the order.”

  By the time the others had returned, the warriors had cached their food and extra equipment, leaving each with only his sword, three small spears and his atlatl throwing stick. Tokkenoht questioned each of the returning groups. One had seen the humans.

  “They are moving along the south side of the river in the general direction of our territory,” the team leader told her. “They are not in attack formation. They walk in a column, about two miles to the southwest. We need to be careful. They are observant, not like the other humans we’ve seen.”

  “Did they see you?”

  “No, we watched them from far away and from a screened position among the trees.”

  “Good,” she said. “Let’s be on our way.”

  The large party retraced their footsteps down the hill and to the river. They had barely crossed to the other side when the air suddenly echoed with the sounds of thunder weapons. Several warriors fell bleeding to the ground. Szerl grabbed Tokkenoht and dragged her to the ground as well.

  “Where are they?” She shouted to be heard over what sounded like a thunderstorm from hell.

  “Over there!” Szerl pointed to their left. “Although how they got there, I have no idea.”

  “Spears!” he shouted.

  Warriors jumped up and launched spears with their atlatls, but most were immediately cut down.

  “We have to stay down!” hissed Tokkenoht.

  “It doesn’t matter. They’re shooting blind through the grass.” As if to emphasize his words, there was a loud wet splat, as most of Szerl’s brains exploded out the side of his head.

  Suddenly the thunder stopped, to be replaced by a different sound. It was a horrible squawking, as if hundreds of feathered runners were attacking all at once. Tokkenoht looked up to see a human just a few feet away, running directly at her. Its pathetic little mouth was wide open as it shrieked. It had a knife on the end of its thunder weapon, and for a moment she was sure she was about to be run through, but at the last moment, the soft-skin turned the weapon around and slammed the butt end into her face. And everything went black.

  * * * * *

  “You’ve got to call the men back, Mayor!” pleaded Iolana Staff. “This lizzie king is not like the others we’ve fought and we don’t have a sorceress to save us like we did in the last two wars!

  “Don’t worry yourself, Lady Iolana. Remember, I was here for that first battle with the lizzies, before you were even born. We were a still living in tents and all our soldiers had been slaughtered. We still held off the buggers with two machine guns. Now, we’re much more prepared than we were even during the Freedonian War. I’ve got a thousand soldiers in the field and they’ve already triumphed in a couple of skirmishes, without losing a single man, I might add.”

  “How can you know that?”

  Mayor Laird Luebking leaned over to look her in the eyes and placed a finger on the side of his bulbous red nose as he smiled.

  “We know what we’re doing. The militia has set up a series of runners between here and the main column. They’re riding iguanodons. They can get word back and forth in less than forty-eight hours.”

  The girl didn’t look impressed.

  “That’s not all though. Tomorrow, we send out a supply column, two hundred fresh men, and the crawler.”

  He waved toward the gigantic steam-powered war machine visible through his office window. It sat as if basking in the afternoon sun. Captured from the Freedonians, it was a triangular design with two large front wheels, constructed without rims—only spokes, and a single small wheel in back. Each spoke of the front wheels, there looked to be seven or eight on each one, had a claw-like end piece. The effect was that the vehicle rather than rolling, crawled, insect-like, across the ground. The bottom of this strange contraption, which was the only part exposed to fire was heavily armored, and it bristled with machine guns. It had been modified with a pair of mortars on its top and two large circular saw blades in front to cut a path through the forest. It also carried a large spool of coated wire on its back.

  “As it moves through the woods and out to the battlefield, it will be laying out a telegraph line,” said the Mayor. “Then we will have instantaneous communication with the front.”

  Iolana stared at the steam-powered war machine.

  “Don’t worry, My Lady. Everything is under control,” said Luebking, ushering her out the door.

  Esther, who was waiting in the outer offices, joined her as they passed out the front door.

  “Well?” she asked.

  Iolana didn’t answer. Her eyes seldom leaving the monstrous crawler, she slowly walked across the field to the edge of the militia base, the lizzie following in her wake. She had just crossed the boundary when she heard a sharp “Halt!” Looking over, she saw a young militiaman with a rifle slung over his shoulder walking smartly toward her.

  “No unauthorized personnel…Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you, My Lady.”

  Iolana looked into the face of the young man. She recognized him from around town, but didn’t know his name. She smiled.

  “Don’t you look sharp? I do so admire a man in uniform.”

  “Thank you, My Lady,” he said, puffing up.

  “Um, will you be going off to fight the lizzies?”

  “Just as soon as I can. We’ll teach them a bloody lesson… um, begging your pardon, My Lady.”

  “I’m sure you will,” she said. “Do you all have everything you need? Is there anything you require? Um, I’m sure my mother would want to know if there was something, you know, that you needed.”

  “Oh, we have enough supplies to outfit five thousand men—more than we need really. It’s all stored over there in that building.”

  “That’s wonderful,” said Iolana. “What I really came for is to speak to someone. Do you know Sam Croffut?”


  “Well, of course. Everyone knows Sam, I mean Lieutenant Croffut. But… well, you see, I’m not supposed to let anyone on the base, My Lady, especially not a lizzie.”

  “She’s harmless,” said Iolana.

  “I really am,” said Esther.

  Iolana put her hand on the soldier’s arm.

  “Still, caution is always a good idea. Maybe you could get Lieutenant Croffut and bring him here. I would be ever so grateful.”

  “Well, I suppose that would be alright, as long as you and that lizzie wait here.” He grinned. “I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as the young militiaman was out of sight, Iolana turned to Esther.

  “Go back home and don’t say anything to anyone.”

  “I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” said Esther. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Yes, just like that.”

  Iolana left her reptilian friend and hurried to the supply building. The door wasn’t locked and she slipped inside. There among the giant shelves of supplies, she found stacks of uniforms. Though it wasn’t easy to do by herself, she peeled off her green day dress, losing a few buttons in the process, and slipped into the smallest uniform she could find. Though the blouse and pants were only slightly large, she had to wear three pairs of socks and stuff another pair into the toes before she was able to successfully walk in the smallest boots she could find. She added a helmet and a belt with a holster. Pulling her pistol from her purse, she slid it into its new home at her hip. Hiding her clothing between two large crates, she settled down to wait until dark.

  Late in the evening, a diminutive uniformed figure slipped out of the supply building and hurried across the field to the crawler. Iolana had been in the machine twice before, having actually ridden in it during the last Accord Day parade. The back half of the monster was a labyrinth of compartments for ammunition and supplies. Finding one with just enough space, she stepped in and closed the compartment door behind her. Then she settled down for a long wait.